Story:Kings of Strife/Part 3
Part Three When Maria awoke, she saw colors all around her. She was leaning on the trunk of a tree, and a ragged grey blanket was draped over her pale skin. She was in a forest, and all around her were falling leaves of wondrous different hues. Vibrant orange, brown, fading green, even red, all slowly tumbling down on the wind around her. She looked up and around her, entranced by the beauty of it all. Golden and red eyes suddenly stared at Maria from behind her mind and she shivered, reflexively broken out of her state of awe. Now she started to question just what she was doing here in the outside world. How did she get out of the room? ‘Where am I?’ She looked all around and noticed the man who saved her, sitting up on a blanket of his own, staring at her. She looked him over again before falling, trapped, back into his eyes. She realized that she had his jacket wrapped around her chest and a long-sleeve gray shirt tied around her waist, beneath the blankets. The man wore only a navy blue sleeveless shirt with his dark gray pants. His straight black hair was messy and long enough to touch his shoulders in the back, and bangs touched his nose and the sides of his face. Matching black eyes pierced out from beneath his hair, reluctant to be buried away beneath his features. His eyes looked so hard, unforgiving and jaded. They sent shivers down Maria’s spine. Could this really be the man who saved her life? He noticed her gaze. “So you’re awake. How are you feeling?” The man spoke first, wounding the pristine silence between the two of them and the blooming forest all around them. Maria looked down, realizing that her body didn’t feel weak anymore. She was energized, strong, and entirely free – but why did this terrify her? She bit her lip. “I’m fine,” she lied. “Thank you for saving me, sir.” The man grunted. “I just gave you some water and a sandwich, and carried you out of those dirty sewers. It’s not a big deal.” She looked at him, and noticed the dirty stains on the man’s boots and lower pants. Was that where she was imprisoned? Within the sewers? “What were you doing down there, anyway?” “I wish I knew,” she muttered. There was still nothing in her memory. Only the darkness, and the blond demon, and the eyes that were sometimes golden and sometimes red. That was her most vivid memory, and the one that made the least sense. Her savior sighed. “Well, that complicates things. Do you have a home I can take you back to or something?” Maria looked away in shame. “No… At least, I don’t remember one. I don’t remember anything, sir.” “If that’s not cliché, I don’t know what is.” The man appeared uncomfortable. “Don’t call me sir, by the way. My name is…” He hesitated, and stole a glance at her eyes again. “Just call me Crono.” Maria nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Crono, sir.” Crono looked at her expectedly, and after a moment she remembered that he didn’t know her name. “Sorry! I’m Maria. Maria Zorphan.” That was the only thing she was completely sure of… but what a useless thing to be confident about. Crono yawned. “You’ve got that down, at least. So what are you going to do now?” He was genuinely curious, Maria could tell, and she suspected that he was even concerned for her. It seemed impossible for those dark, stern eyes of his to hold compassion for anyone, and she was afraid to trust him. Blood was on his clothes, and it likely wasn’t his… But he had saved her. ‘I owe him my life,’ she thought to herself. “I… I don’t know.” She wanted to escape, to get away from those piercing and commanding mental eyes within her. But now that she was free, where was she to go? How could she be rid of something inside of her? Maria sighed and let her head fall back onto the tree behind her, and she stared up at the bright sky. Falling leaves reflected various shades of light as they dropped gracefully onto the verdant forest floor below. ‘I wish I could just sit here forever and watch the leaves fall. So pretty…’ After a moment, she came up with a nagging thought, and looked back down to Crono as he was cleaning up the small campsite they were sharing. “Why did you save me?” She saw conflict on his face. “What was I supposed to do, leave you tied up and naked in the middle of the sewers?” Maria considered this. “You’re a good person, Crono. Thank you.” He turned his back to her and bent down to scatter the charred firewood. “No, I’m not. You don’t have to thank me.” She opened her mouth to protest, but the man turned back to look at her, and Maria froze. There, once again beneath lazily drooped eyelids, she saw the renewed hardness of his eyes. They were like polished black steel. “I kill people for a living,” he stated. She pulled her arms to her chest and shivered. With a look like that, she believed him… but still, something in her heart couldn’t accept that. “But you saved my life. And you even fed me, and stayed around to make sure I had someplace to go. No one truly bad would do something like that, I think.” Crono pulled a backpack onto one shoulder and stood up. He looked down, not meeting her eyes anymore. “You’re naïve…” He frowned. “And you’re lost. Come on, I’ve got to go, and I think I know somewhere you can stay for a while. I’ll drop you off at a village close to here.” Maria stood, pulling the blanket from her legs and holding it around her shoulders. “And then what happens?” “Well, you’ll live there and I’ll be on my way. I won’t be able to stay long. There are people out looking for me.” “Because you killed someone?” She looked at him with a sympathetic look as the man started to walk past her. No matter how she looked at it, this didn’t seem like the kind of man who would be a ruthless murderer… but what did she know? “Not exactly. The people chasing me are the ones who pay me to kill people. For my last job I stole some jewel and my employers didn’t want to pay me, so I took the jewel and left. No doubt I’m on their kill list next.” Crono looked heavily in thought as he walked through the brightly colored forest, his eyes forward at all times and his expression focused. Maria walked beside him, but she looked up and around constantly, taking in the colors and smells of the forest. She couldn’t help but hold a smile on her face. “What’s wrong with that? They’re mad at you because they did bad stuff? That doesn’t sound right.” Despite himself, Crono couldn’t help but chuckle and glance sideways over to Maria. “You really are naïve. Watch your step before you trip over something.” The amnesiac reluctantly looked forward just in time to duck under a low-hanging branch that would have otherwise hit her forehead. After a moment in thought, she crossed her arms and nodded her head. “I’m coming with you.” Crono looked back at her with a concerned frown. “What? No. It’s too dangerous.” “Dangerous! I can take care of myself, thank you!” “…You could barely walk three feet earlier. I don’t think you can handle getting shot at.” Crono shook his head and put his hands into the pockets of his pants. “What part of ‘I’m a murderer’ don’t you get? You might be the most courageous amnesiac I’ve ever met. Well, the only amnesiac, but I doubt most of them are as crazy as you are.” “I’m not a child, sir Crono!” Despite her insistence, Maria noted that she really didn’t know how old she was… but she felt like an adult. “Living in some village for the rest of my life sounds really boring. If you’re on the run, that means you’ll be traveling a lot, right? I want to go with you. I want to see the world!” She looked around at the trees about her, kicking at a pile of fallen leaves with her bare feet. If the entire world was this colorful and interactive, Maria couldn’t wait to go out and explore it. She smiled with excitement. “My line of work isn’t exactly that of a tourist, you know.” Maria noticed Crono’s face getting warmer. “What can I do with you, though?” Crono continued. He rubbed his chin and sighed. “I really don’t have time for this…” Suddenly Maria felt self-conscious. She turned away and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. “I don’t mean to be a burden for you. I just… don’t have anywhere else to go.” The mercenary gave a long gaze to Maria’s quivering eyes. “You’re really serious, aren’t you? I don’t think you understand.” He frowned hard, but this time his eyes retained their compassionate softness. “You can’t be around me. I couldn’t put someone like you in danger.” She looked right back at him and nodded with a smile. Every ounce of common sense was telling her to listen to him and take the easy way out… but her intuition was saying that she was right. This man had the eyes of a killer, but not the heart of one. “You’re not a bad man. I can tell.” Crono looked away, his face still red, and crossed his arms again. “We’re still going to the village. But I’ll think about it.” ***** “Oh Gods! Please, please, let me g-Agh!” A knee to the stomach silenced the guard and knocked him out of consciousness. He fell to the ground quietly and was pushed away from a swift kick to the chest. The action required no effort from the man in the red coat and no thought, as his entire being was focused on his task at hand. Even though he was completely serious, a dark and sinister smirk took over his face. The village of Troia was the closest settlement to the west of the Shorican and Inusian border. Despite the relative usefulness of the land, travel between the two countries was almost completely done through the seas or trains, and as a result the village on the ground had been losing influence over the past century. Because of this, Troia was relatively backwards and still rather small, although it attracted a respectable amount of tourists due to its scenic locale and beautiful nature around it. Beyond the small village was the expansive Shorican Wilds, a forest that dated back from the Sunset Age almost three thousand years ago. These wilds were once the proud domain of Sasteryn, Morning King of Seawatch, and within the tangles of their tall trees stood crumbling and moss-covered towers of cobblestone and ancient paste. The towers were mostly destroyed or unfound, but the few that were still climbable were populated by Shorican soldiers, who kept watch over the close border between Inusia and Shorica. The Crimson Death could see Troia quite clearly from the top of one such tower. It was only about thirty feet tall, and barely skimmed the tops of the trees around it, but a vantage point was a vantage point all the same. He walked past the unconscious, beaten man on the floor and swiped a thin finger along the cobblestone wall, pulling up a swab of blood as he did so. The man smelled it with pleasure and licked his lips as his eyes looked over the Shorican landscape. Four dead Shorican soldiers and one unconscious one lay behind him, scattered about the tower. They had little relevant information and conflicting stories, but each agreed upon seeing two wanderers from nearby Morshia City dwelling near the border. This was the info he needed, even if it was likely outdated and amateurish. All the same, he had granted them a pleasant and painful death. He saved the last one for when he was leaving. It wasn’t often that the man took government jobs, nor ones that didn’t provide a lot of information. He was best suited for mercenary assignments that involved war or assassination. A grim smile flashed across the man’s sharp face. He enjoyed killing and torturing the most. But this job… This was something he had never encountered before. No government would hire a wanted killer just to track down a stolen jewel. There was something more in this, something they didn’t want him to know. That was fine with him. He didn’t care about knowing. The only reason the man went along with the job was because of its potential. If someone could elude the entire Inusian government and required the skills of the Crimson Death, they either had some powerful allies or were extremely strong themselves. And yet… He had tracked them down within two days. How disappointing that was. The Crimson Death shrugged his shoulders lightly and turned to leave the tower. He would have to rush into Troia soon, so that he did not miss the thief and his companion passing through the village. The mission prompt had no mention of a companion, but he would just kill them, too. Nothing to be afraid of. The Crimson Death didn’t know the meaning of fear. A bundle of cloth and flesh pulled into a vulnerable fetal position quivered by the door and greeted the Crimson Death. “Please,” the only surviving Shorican soldier pleaded. “Don’t kill me. Why are you here?” Gin Taoris, the Crimson Death, walked towards the other end of the tower with a smile. “I needed a high point to watch over the area. You all just happened to be here.” “But…” The survivor began to sob violently, and his shaking body trembled with sorrow. “You killed us. Why did you have to kill them? Why did this have to happen?” The Crimson Death stomped a foot onto the chest of the whimpering man, smiling in ecstasy as the action elicited an internal crack and a scream. He began to slide one of the broadswords strapped to his waist out of its scabbard. “Why not?” ***** Silverius stood in the cabin that had been assigned to him and Maria inside of Troia Village. It wasn’t odd for tourists to want to spend a couple days in the small town, and Troia was not large or wealthy enough to have many hotels, so it wasn’t uncommon for visitors to simply pay for small cabins to rent. The village was detached and homely, with its locale particularly sought after thanks to its proximity to the beautiful evergreen Shorican Wild. It was a personal favorite of his, a homely and small town that he had frequented years ago. That was back when he was in the military. Back when his life had a real purpose. The mercenary shook these wayward thoughts from his head and looked at Maria’s sleeping body. She lay on the bed, covered by wool blankets graciously donated to the two by the hospitable Elder Jhasten, and snored peacefully. Before he could entertain any thoughts in his head about his companion, the multipurpose device in his pocket began to ring. Silverius looked away as he retrieved his Datalog and put it up to his ear. “Hello?” “Silverius! You fucking idiot!” The mercenary lowered his head and smiled. “Nice to hear from you again too, Kerry.” Crono shook his head slightly and laid a hand on his waist as he leaned against the wall of the cabin. Kerry was a man he had known since he was a teenager. Both of them had been Inusian soldiers, both of them deserted after the end of the Nneonian Civil War, and both of them had been mercenaries for years. Unlike Kerry, Silverius was close to advancing in the Serpent Society, and was only one mission away from becoming a full-fledged Scale. He had been, until the job to steal the Crystal backfired. “I thought you were fucking dead, Silverius. So did everybody else!” Kerry’s frustration was loud and clear, even on the phone line of Silverius’ Datalog. “Yeah, wouldn’t be the first time. Listen, you can’t call me anymore after this. I’m on the run. The organization is coming after me.” “No shit! They’ve told all of us about it! They paid us to kill you, man! What the hell did you do?!” Silverius bit his lip. “I stole something, and then I found out I wasn’t getting paid for it. I wasn’t having any of that, so. I hopped out.” Kerry’s disappointment was palpable. “Listen, man, I could tear you apart a thousand times for why that was such a bad idea, but that’s not the point. You need to get the hell out of dodge. Every Scale in Inusia is looking for blood.” “Right, right, yeah… Well I’m in Shorica, right now. Wish I could tell you what my next move is, though.” Silverius sighed and looked back at Maria, still peacefully sleeping on the bed behind him. An idea crept into his head. “Listen, Kerry, what do you know about a Crystal?” “A Crystal? You mean like the ones they sell in stores?” Silverius sucked his teeth. “Sorry, sorry. Not a time for jokes, I know. But, uh, seriously… If that’s what they told you to steal, it must be something pretty serious.” “Yeah,” Silverius agreed. “I stole it from the Tower.” “Holy…” Kerry could be heard taking a breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was hushed. “Listen, this is a really big deal. And between you and me, I’d rather you not be carved up by the organization or tortured to death by the Inusians. So the best way I can see you getting info on whatever it is you took would be to check out the Great Library, in Norzaven. You can find anything up there. But outside of that… I think this is your chance to really get out of this business, man. Away from the killing and contracts and wars and all of that. This is your chance to live your life.” Silverius’ jaw hardened, and he thought of all the lives he had taken in his own. Countless. He couldn’t even remember all of the people he killed. He looked back to Maria, who stirred, and he pursed his lips. Kerry was right, but even so… “We both know I can’t do that. There’s only one way to escape this life.” Kerry sighed, a long exasperation of breath that felt more like a goodbye than an expression of disappointment. “Yeah. I know. Stay safe, man. And… I hope I don’t see you out there, Crono.” They both knew what that meant. If the two met in battle, neither would hold back, and their fight wouldn’t end until the other was dead. That was how it worked. Silverius could only smile. “Don’t call me that.” He hung up the Datalog and returned it to his pocket. His head lowered and his hair covered his eyes for a moment as he considered just what had just transpired. ‘North… That’s a goal that works, for now…’ The mercenary turned and started to walk towards Maria with his hands in his pocket. ‘An angel.’ That was all Silverius could think of to describe her, the girl that he had saved in the middle of nowhere. Where did she come from? What was her story? How was she so beautiful? Silverius walked closer, and couldn’t stop himself from caressing her tender face with his hand. Her skin was so soft and her hair was so luxuriously wavy, despite not being taken care of for days, most likely. How was this possible? How was she possible? Maria’s body was skinny and clearly malnourished, but was still attractive and beautiful. She was so pure… So why did she want to hang around him, someone with no morals, no real past… and no future. A noise shook Silverius back to the present. He moved his hand backwards and looked towards the door of the small cabin. Anxiety pulled down his gut and perked up his senses; moving slowly, Silverius reached his hand towards his gunblade as it sat propped up on the other side of the only bed, still wrapped in canvas. He was too slow. The wooden door exploded forward, sending Silverius pouncing to the ground for his blade and fragments of structural shrapnel flying. The mercenary reached his sword and rolled forward, using his momentum to push Maria towards the wall and away from the door, causing her to be wrapped in the blankets she lay in and hidden from sight. This action completed, he stood and backed into the corner of the cabin, his sword pointed forward. A second passed as the dust settled before Silverius realized he still had the canvas wrapped around his gunblade; as he ripped it off, the mercenary double-checked that the safety to his weapon was off, and it was fully loaded with rifle bullets. In the spot where the door to the cabin once stood, a man with two swords in each hand stood in its place, grinning. “Pray,” the man said laconically. He wore a red coat and had long, flowing red hair. Blood splatters were visible on the white steel of his swords. Not even a moment later, he exploded forward with motion, jumping high into the air and raising his swords. He had crossed the length of the cabin in an instant, and before Silverius realized it, this strange intruder was above him, ready to slash downwards and cut him into three pieces. He rolled away just in time to see the man slam his swords downward, effortlessly smashing the wooden walls that Silverius just stood in front of. The intruder was a huge man, with thick biceps clear through the fabric of his coat. As the crimson man turned, grinning with his teeth, Silverius realized that he would not be able to overpower this man. “Wake up!” Silverius screamed as he pulled Maria off her bed and dumped her on the floor. The girl yelped and wrapped her blankets around her as she looked up, but Silverius did not meet her gaze and only stepped forward. He never took his eyes off the intruder in red, even as he unhooked the pouch with the Crystal from his belt and threw it down to Maria. “Run! Now!” She stood, holding the blankets around her and keeping the pouch tight to her chest. “Sir Crono…? What’s going on? Who is that?” Silverius grit his teeth and held the handle to his sword with both hands. “Listen to me and run away, now.” Maria said nothing else, and after a moment of hesitation, she turned and bolted out of the cabin. The intruder’s eyes narrowed. “That was a good choice… but now we don’t get to enjoy our fight. I have to go after your friend over there.” “So you’re after the Crystal.” Silverius thought as much. “I won’t let you touch her.” “Oh, it’s not up to you,” the intruder said with a grimy smile. That was all the warning Silverius got before the man lept forward once again, raising his swords in the air. Silverius just barely managed to duck beneath this by a hair, and was able to counterattack in this opening. He kicked the intruder, sending him onto the bed where Maria once lay. Silverius then took this opportunity to grab his discarded backpack and put it on his shoulders. He stepped backwards, closer to the collapsed door, and aimed his sword at the intruder, who was quickly recovering from his attack. “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!” Silverius’ gunblade was pointed right to the intruder’s chest. He wouldn’t miss, not from this range. Yet the intruder smiled. “Shoot, then.” He stood, and Silverius’ blade rose with him, still aimed at his chest. But Silverius did not pull the trigger, not yet. He only looked the intruder in the eye, shaken by his disregard for death. “What are you waiting for?” The man in the red coat held his hands to his sides, fists still clenching his dual bastard swords. “Shoot.” He took one more step closer, and Silverius pulled the trigger. And again. And again. And again. He shot four times, and hit his mark four times, right where he aimed. The intruder shook, flexed his neck muscles, and looked down at Silverius with a smile. “Is it my turn yet?” The next attack sent Silverius flying. He groaned and rolled up to his feet, slower than before. The mercenary had just managed to bring his gunblade up high enough to block the strike from the man in red, and even then he was pushed backwards until he was out of the cabin. Silverius looked down to his blade – it wouldn’t be able to take another hit like that without cracking and eventually shattering. ‘What kind of man is that?’ He looked up to the man in red, walking lazily out of the cabin with one sword propped onto his shoulder. Four bullet holes were visible in his coat, and blood ran from then, but the man did not flinch. If anything, the wounds seemed to encourage him. “You can’t hurt me, boy,” the man in red boasted. “I cannot feel pain. I cannot meet death. I have become it.” Silverius opened his mouth to say something witty in response, but only had time to duck and weave away from another slash of the man’s huge swords. His enemy was not only insanely strong, but he was fast, much faster than any foe Silverius had fought against in a long time. He would be lucky to walk away from this fight alive, let alone unscathed. Another wide slash came from the man in red, and another, and another. Silverius dodged them by the skin of his teeth, and used the openings to shoot at his enemy. His shots were true and the distance between them was short, so he knew his bullets were making serious contact… but the enemy was unharmed. If anything, the wounds only seemed to inflame him. Soon, he began to laugh. “Who are you?” Silverius backed away, slightly bent over to catch his breath. “I am the Crimson Death. I’m going to kill you and take the Crystal back.” “Not today you won’t!” Silverius jumped forward, flipping his gunblade to his side and raising his free left arm as he closed in to the Crimson Death. Silverius slashed his sword twice, each time effortlessly blocked. This did not stop him, and with a scream of energy, he twisted his foot and darted to the tall man’s side. There he slashed again but was blocked; Silverius zipped behind him, only to have his sword dodged; next, he returned to the side he came from with another swing of his blade, but was again blocked. Every move he made in his desperate storm of attacks was blocked, effortlessly and with laughs. Finally, at the end of his relentless attack, Silverius dropped his guard for but a moment, and the Crimson Death took advantage of it. With one sword he smacked away the mercenary’s gunblade, and with his other he swung downwards. The tip of his sword cut Silverius from his shoulder to his waist with brutal power, and the mercenary was sent stumbling backwards with a scream of pain. “That was fun,” the Crimson Death stated as Silverius stumbled backwards, brilliant red blood spilling onto his black clothing. “The game is over now, though. I have money to make.” “No… No! It’s not over yet!” The pain was excrutiating. Silverius’ vision began to fade, and his eyebrows were knitted together in desperation, and for the first time he looked around and stopped his adrenaline from narrowing his vision. For the first time he noticed that the two of them stood in the outskirts of Troia, and behind his enemy – who stood between Silverius and Troia – fire flicked high into the air. Misty evening was starting to transition to dusk, then to night, but a rising fire of rebellious orange and red rose to the dark clouds as if to burn them, as well. The Crimson Death laughed at Silverius’ expression of horror. “You cannot save them. You cannot save even yourself, but it isn’t over?” The redhead’s small blue eyes stared at Silverius from inside a tilted head, and narrowed further with a sick smile. “You’re persistent. I like you. Remember my name as the man who killed you. Sound good?” He lifted a sword and raised Silverius’ chin with the tip of its metal. The two men looked in each other’s eyes. “Taoris. I am Gin Taoris, the Crimson Death. Remember that.” An ethereal violet arrow burst through the Crimson Death’s extended arm. Both warriors looked at the arrow with surprise. “That… That hurt.” Taoris looked at the weapon with wide eyes, and gingerly lowered his arm. “How is it hurting me?” Before he could speak again, another arrow zipped right through his chest, and another in his leg. “Agh!” He screamed. “That hurts! How does it hurt?!” He dropped his swords and fell to a knee, hands grasping idly at the glowing ethereal arrows sticking right through his body. Both him and Silverius looked behind him, to the archer with such powers. There stood Maria Zorphan, aiming at Taoris with the Crystal pouch in one of her hands and a bow made of the same swirling violet darkness in the other. Her eyes were no longer red – now they glowed golden orange, and she glared at Taoris. She exuded an aura of power. “Never come after me again,” she commanded, with a voice that was deeper than her usual tone. Her eyes glowed with such power that anyone looking at her had to stop and listen, and follow any order she told them to take. “If I ever see you again, I will annihilate you.” Another arrow manifested from in front of her stringless bow, and it hit its mark right in Taoris’ unharmed thigh, sending him down a step to his knees. The man screamed and flexed his arms, and in response, Maria shot another arrow, right through his throat. “Be silent.” The Crimson Death fell to the ground in recoil, his blood running from his wounds like a fountain. He spasmed on the ground, silently convulsing in agony. Silverius stood in awe, his body shivering from his own pain – and from his fear. He looked to his companion with wide, fearful eyes. “Maria…?” He stammered. “Maria, is that you?” She looked at him, and as soon as the two of them made eye contact, she trembled and blinked. Instantly the glow in her eyes were gone, replaced by the deep red of her own natural irises. The dark bow near her hand faded, and she drew her hand back to her chest. Now she was the one fearful, and she looked between Silverius’ wounds and the weapons embedded in Taoris’ body with terror. Silverius took a step forward, energized by the screams starting to come from the village behind them. He careened over to Maria, grabbing her arm and pulling her with him towards the forest. “Come on,” he muttered, “We have to go. We have to go.” She looked back at the town behind them as it grew more and more hidden from view, with horrified red eyes. “What have I done?” She whispered. “Who was that? Whose eyes were that? I saw them again.” She began to shake. Maria took Silverius’ urgings and walked with him, both of them leaning on each other as they hobbled through the forest, but she couldn’t stop herself from constantly looking back at the town they left behind. The town put to the torch and decorated by the silently screaming body of a man who could not die. The spot where she saw her nightmares again. “What have I done? What have I done?” ...End of Part Three. <- Previous Page | Main Page | Next Page ->